


You're The Only Good Thing

by mvtthewmurdvck



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 00:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16862728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvtthewmurdvck/pseuds/mvtthewmurdvck
Summary: This is an archived piece originally posted on the tumblr,mvtthewmurdvck.





	You're The Only Good Thing

Matt couldn’t  _remember_  a time in his life where Y/N hadn’t been there. One day she had shown up, and then the next day she was there, and then she never left.

They had met by accident, her serving him a drink, and without speaking or asking, she slid the glass into his hand until his fingers wrapped around it. She asked for no explanation and asked zero questions. He listened as she spoke, interchanging between Spanish to some and English to others. He spent all night listening to her, carefully observing her with all the senses he had.

Matt had gone there to avoid the others—the distance between himself and Foggy worsening by the second. He hadn’t realised he would come across someone who would mean a lot to him.

In all the time Matt had known Y/N Y/L, she had barely changed; even if she said that her hair was suddenly shorter, and her clothes were more professional, in her heart and her soul, nothing had changed. The bar went up for sale, she moved into her own home, and she like most had made mistakes. Matt could count the five times on his hand where she had turned up at his door, a bottle in her hand with her heart full of pain. The fifth time was when things changed. Her head rested against his shoulder, as she tutted before describing the monstrosity outside of his flat. Matt was barely listening to her—too focused on her pulse, and the way her hair smelt, vanilla and raspberry, a scent he knew was the essence of innocence.

Y/N didn’t know what he did at night, but he knew she had her suspicions. For one, she commented on the cuts and bruises, but there was no panic in her voice when she saw them. If anything, Y/N always tutted.

Taking a swig from the bottle, she let out a hiss, and Matt smirked to himself before she sighed. “Why do I  _always_  meet men who are no good for me, Murdock?”

Matt stroked a hand over her shoulder, feeling her tense as she capped the bottle in her hand and slid it beside her. “Maybe you’re  _looking_  in the wrong places.”

Her head turned against his arm, and he could feel her eyes tracing over his face, and she slowly pulled down the glasses from his nose.

* * *

“But  _you’re_  looking at me,” you whispered, and his lips curled into a smile as his breath passed over her cheeks as she moved closer. “And  _I’m_  looking at you.”

His hand moved up to your chin, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “ _Maybe_  I am…but I can’t know if you’re looking at me. I’m blind,  _remember_.”

The tension between the two of you had become electric—it always did when you were alone. It pulsated in every room the two of you found yourselves in, and so often you had wondered what was stopping him from crossing the room and crushing his lips to yours—other than the possibility of furniture ruining his move. But, with you like this, in his apartment, your breathing  _clearly_  laboured, he should make a move. He should… shouldn’t he? 

He did. 

Matt tilted your chin up as he dropped his head to yours.

It seemed obvious when your lips brushed against one another, but when he paused, it was clear he was unsure if you wanted this, Matt let go of your lip with a softness you found difficult to stomach. Your heads were an inch apart, your breaths becoming tangled, and you internally prayed he did something—said something.

You took the plunge instead. “Murdock…if we do this, and I _want this too_ , it will change things and—”

Matt cut you off, not allowing you to finish your sentence as he hungrily pressed his mouth to yours. You couldn’t protest if you wanted too, your tongue slipping over his lips as he lifted you from your place on the sofa to his lap. His hands brushed under the silk of your shirt, feeling the softness of your skin as you held your breath at his touch. It began again, their lips crashing together as if the two of you had been starved, all teeth and moans; the sound of your heels meeting the floor with two individual thuds as you rolled your hips against his. A hand running up your thigh, finding them either side of his as a free hand of his snaked up your neck.

* * *

Matt made sure to memorise her. He captured the hammering heartbeat, the way she inhaled and exhaled as his fingers brushed over her lace bra, pinching her nipple. His mouth dropped to her jaw, pressing butterfly kisses across it as her fingers slid up his neck into his hair. There were so many layers between them, so many layers of materials rubbing against the other making a distracting noise. 

He tired quickly of the uncomfortable sofa, struggling to find access to free her from her clothes. Matt lifted her with ease from the sofa, the bottle she had been drinking, falling to the floor and he followed the sound of it rolling until it stopped. She whimpered, soft and light, as he carried her, moving her with expertise to his bed.

Everything happened quickly, even with his senses eager for things to be slow. Her shirt was peeled from her skin; his ripped from him as buttons flew across the room, hitting exposed brick and cabinets. 

Then her trousers were discarded along with her underwear; his belt unbuckled and the fabric dropping down his thighs until they pooled at his feet.

Y/N was on her knees, forcing the springs in the mattress to ping as her fingers grazed down old scars, and new ones, as her breath tickled his skin, but Matt somehow held composure. He was used to being vulnerable, but with her—in this current position—it felt heightened, as though the moment could break at any moment if he wasn’t careful.

He reached out, finding his palms stroking against her waist, his thumbs brushing down her hip bones as he felt lace where there should be skin. His lips softly smirked, his tongue sweeping over them as he cautiously placed a finger either side, hearing her take an intake of breath. One-by-one, he slid each side down until they dropped to her knees, and even without sight, he knew she was looking at him, her heart beating at such a rapid pace it felt like it was his.

* * *

You felt his hand smooth over your thigh, allowing a shiver to pass as goosebumps began to appear. The springs of the mattress creaked before you realised he had moved your knees further apart, your breath becoming warm as you placed your hand over the back of his neck.

Matt pressed his mouth to yours as he slid a finger between your folds, finding you just as desperate for him as he was for you. The way you quivered at his touch, the way your grip tightened on his waist made him groan, sinking his teeth down into your bottom lip. It wasn’t as cautious as before, your lips moving passionately as your fingernails began clawing at his neck, moving slowly down to his back. The soft whimpers and moans you let escape made him twitch against you, and the need to bury himself inside of you rose to a new height as he groaned in your ear. 

When he ran his thumb over you, sliding another finger in as you tilted your head back, a low moan in the back of your throat escaped as his lips pressed to your neck. 

“I’d commit sins for  _you_ , Y/N,” Matt whispered darkly against your ear. 

His voice. The darkness wrapped around his words, it made your body curl into him as your hold on his shoulders tightened. The sounds—the silence mixed with your mews were making his mind erupt, while the rest of your senses, tingled, firing up as you tried to control yourself, not wanting to embarrass yourself when you had wanted this for so long.

Without protest, he pushed you down into the mattress. Your groan of displeasure as he removed his fingers could be heard all over the flat, but when your thighs were found either side of his waist, he dropped his lips to your chest. 

* * *

He felt hazy as he heard her sounds, her perfume meeting the air all around him. If he could see, he was sure her eyes would be burning, ready to torch him—because he knew he was. When her hand slid down her stomach, he listened as it moved past her skin until he gasped, her hand wrapped around his hard length. She slowly moved her hand, pumping almost teasingly as he slid his thumb over her clit for punishment.

She arched her spine off the bed.

“Oh,  _fuck_  me,  _Murdock_.”

Other words falling incoherently from her lips as he pressed open mouth kisses to her chest, hearing her heart rate increasing, feeling her skin flushing with sweat as he continued to push her to the edge—desperately wanting to replace his hand with his cock. She was driving him insane—hell, she had always driven him insane. The softness of her voice, the care in her tone, and the way she always skipped a beat when she smiled at him.

She didn’t need to vocalise how close she was, he felt it. Her hand slowed in her teasing, her body becoming rigid, and as her walls tightened around his fingers.

“Let  _go_ ,” he told her darkly before he bit down gently on her collarbone.

The sound of his name at that moment was one he’d never forget. It would circle his brain for centuries, reminding him of how delightful his name could be said, but he didn’t linger, he didn’t wait, hooking her leg up over his hip as he lined himself up at her entrance as she struggled for breath. For a moment, he waited for a sign that she wanted this, needing a confirmation of some sort in case she now, through the light-headedness of her release, had changed her mind.

Her fingers brushed against his chest before they moved to his shoulders, and the forceful tug she pulled on them nearly made him fall flush against her. She pulled his lips bruisingly to hers, and Matt reached for the top drawer of his bedside table, as he hurryingly felt for the protection he desperately needed.

She tensed against him, and somehow he knew what it was she was thinking, pressing a kiss to her lips affirming he was fine as he leant back on his feet. He felt the mattress shift with her weight, finding her fingers brushing through his hair as he slid the condom over himself, and he lifted his head as he pressed her palm against his cheek.

In a flash, Matt was on her, pressing her down on the sheets again, a hand pinning hers to the pillows as he teasingly slid into her before pulling his hips back. She whimpered, her hands struggling against his grip, and even he couldn’t resist her any more, having little patience for prolonging this.

* * *

Matt buried himself within you, filling you entirely as you stretched around him, messily kissing him as you did. He loosened his grip on your wrists, feeling them free before you gripped his shoulders, digging your nails down as you tightened your thighs around his waist.

“Make me scream,” you told him sinfully, your hands moving round to his shoulder blades. “I want–I  _need_  you, to make me scream,  _Matt_.”

His first name was like a key, unlocking something inside of him—something feral. You used his surname as a nickname, it fell from your mouth so often it was all he was used to hearing in your voice. But now, hips grinding against yours, hand knotted in your hair, he growled at your words. You heard it, you  _felt_  the response to his name. 

The pace he had set went to  _shit_ , his hips snapping into yours as you arched into him. His fingers spread out across the sheets by your head, the other bringing your lips up to his as he kissed you harder than he had done so far. The pace he had was lost, the rhythm becoming forgotten as your mouth pulled from his, your head falling back, and his hips stuttered, his orgasm ripping through him, your body pressed hard against his.

* * *

His breathing was shaky as he pulled out of hers, hearing her hiss lightly as he did, before falling beside her, snaking an arm around her to bring her close. Her forehead met his chest, and he was surprised to find that neither of them cared for the thin layer of sweat on their bodies—if anything, she willingly ran her hand over his abdomen.

Neither of them spoke, not until their breathing returned to normal, and he had pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I  _don’t_  think we can be friends anymore, Murdock.”

Matt, letting a breath out from his nose, smiled. “Oh, was it something  _I did_?”

She snorted lightly, and her head rolled to the side on his chest, her breath brushing over his chest hair. “Yes. It most  _positively_  was.”

“Do you regret it? Us— _this_?” He asked, biting down on his lip, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart nervously beat.

Her sigh came unexpected, and he tensed at the feel of it against his skin. “No. I just…wish that I had, maybe, told you I had a small crush on you before I destroyed your back.”

“ _Oh_ , you have a crush on me?” Matt feigned surprise. “I had  _no_  idea.”

Her hand swatted at his chest, and he laughed as she buried her face into his chest.

“You giggle when you smile,” he added, and her head lifted from his skin as he felt her look at his face.  _And your heart skips a beat_ , he thought. “Not with  _everyone_ , but…when I say something,  _usually_.”

“Full of yourself,  _aren’t_  you, Murdock?”

Even if her tone was teasing, she hadn’t hidden the nervousness that she had hoped to mask. It also thrummed through her in small ways: the tremble of a hand or the flinch of her body against his.

“I’m not full of  _you_ ,” he chuckled, and even if usually, it would be enough to have them falling apart laughing, neither did. “I mean it, and I know you’ve had a lot of people tell you things they don’t mean. But I won’t. I  _couldn’t_.”

Y/N remained frozen, and even if his senses were in overload from her internal panic and her outer stillness, Matt raised his hand, finding her chin again.

“I’ve had feelings for you since the first night you stood at my door singing, ’Murder That Murdock Wrote’ at stupid o'clock.” His fingers slid past her ear, feeling the baby hairs around her face. “But, if this is too much—”

“I can’t lose you… whether it’s as a friend or, whatever the hell we are doing,” Y/N suddenly with a nervous laugh, her heart skipping a beat at her confession.

He wrapped his other hand around her waist, pressing his palm to her spine. “You won’t, I  _promise_.”

“Okay.”

“ _Okay_?”

He felt her nod against his chest, and his mouth twitched as he pulled her closer. He wished he could tell her how much Y/N meant to him, but for now, he’d stay silent. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an archived piece originally posted on the tumblr, [mvtthewmurdvck](https://mvtthewmurdvck.tumblr.com/).


End file.
